Azure Dreams
by psquare
Summary: [Time Force] He had always wanted her. And now, he would do anything to get her. New foes and unexpected allies rise in the deadly battle that ensues... [LucasJenWes]
1. Desire

**_A/N:_** Yes, a Power Rangers fic. I can't believe it myself. But Lucas was just too juicy and unexplored a character to ignore, so… here you go.

I've watched, so far, only until the episode where Eric's appointed leader of Silver Guardians, and that is when this story takes place. Also, I watch the show dubbed in my mother tongue (which is _not_ English), so I'm not sure about some of the Terminology (most of which have been literally translated into English). Any other warnings? You'll be seeing a bit of the Rangers' dark sides. ((evil snicker))

**Disclaimer: **Don't own anything you recognise in this story.

_**Azure Dreams**_

_**One: Desire**_

Lucas Kendall was a man who always appreciated some order in his life.

A secret place in him, a tiny dark ghost that latched onto his murky subconscious often whispered that _that_ was part of the reason he had joined Time Force in the first place – the allure of those prim and neat young men and women, decked in their white uniforms, saving the world in their own, orderly way, moving like ants to the tune of strategies created by greater minds; making sure everything worked like clockwork. The thrill of racing was something that complemented the routine of his job, and everything was balanced – all was right, and the universe was in order.

Which was probably why he hadn't appreciated suddenly being transported three hundred years into the past after an indescribably disastrous mission, and being expected to fight mutants to save his life (and not to mention the Earth's future) every day.

Every. Single. Day.

He sighed, and leaned back in his chair, watching through hooded eyes his fellow Rangers scurry about the clock tower room, engaged in those million little – yet ridiculously essential – trivialities. The thrill of being a Blue Ranger, wielding such power, such _authority_, the pure pleasure of having mutants tremble at the sight of him, was almost worth the loss of order, he reflected.

_Almost_.

"Lucas!" Trip. He seemed to be struggling with their Time Interface computer, which had gone haywire. Again.

"Coming," he said dully, getting up and striding toward his friend. The ultra-thin processing unit of the computer hissed and belched tiny wisps of smoke in response, while Circuit flitted above both their heads, crying in her own metallic way, "Oh dear, oh dear, this is _not_ good…"

Trip flashed him an apologetic smile, pushing some of his green hair out of his eyes. "You think you could do something about this, Luke? I have an errand to run, and I'm already late…"

"Sure." Technically, Trip was the one among them most qualified to deal with such delicate Time equipment, but hadn't he, Lucas Kendall, been the one to secure second place – with top distinction – in the technology department back at the Time Force Academy? "No problem at all. Where are Katie and the others?"

"Katie and Wes just left on some job for Mr. Carson." He rolled his eyes. "And you know how demanding _that_ man can be." He grabbed his backpack. "And Jen should be back any moment now." He rushed down the stairs. "Thanks, and see you later, Lucas!"

"Yeah. See you later." He turned back to the protesting computer, and narrowed his eyes. "Now, _you_." He rolled up his sleeves and picked up the laser-driver, wielding the thin equipment like a sword. "You're going to co-operate."

Circuit watched him nervously – well, as nervous as a robot could manage – from the neighbouring table. "Don't be too hasty, Lucas…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

One agonising hour later, where Circuit was screaming expletives she most _certainly_ oughtn't have known, and he was screaming ones even worse, and the innards of the Time Interface computer was spread all over the worktable, the door to the tower room opened, and a curious face peeked in.

"Uh… is this a bad time to be returning?"

Lucas whirled around, his temper flaring. "Bad time? _Of course _not. Just a piece of malfunctioning technology that won't even be _invented_ in another _three hundred _years…" He blinked, and trailed away, as he finally realised who was standing at the door, looking at him with an expression of gentle amusement.

Jen.

She laughed and entered the room, eyeing the smoking pieces of equipment on the table with an amused eye. "Is the thing holing up _again_?"

"Yeah," Lucas replied, unable to keep a note of sullenness out of his voice. "Trip put me in charge of getting it running by the time he came back."

Jen nodded. "Which would also be the time the Time Force Base Captain pays his weekly call." She looked toward the gadget again, hands on hips. "Well, let's get cracking, then."

Lucas looked at her, incredulous. "Jen, I've been trying to fix it for the past one hour. Nothing's worked."

She smiled benignly at him. "Oh, I think we can fix it now. Assemble all the parts again, will you, Lucas?"

With barely concealed scepticism, Lucas did as the Pink Ranger told, and stepped back from the stubbornly blank holographic screen. "Now what?"

Her smile widened into a grin. "Now, I don't know much about gadgetry, but I _do_ know a time-tested method, which _just_ might work."

His eyebrows rose. "Oh? And what's that?"

"Watch, and learn."

She stepped back a few paces from the computer, hands raised in attacking position, a look of intense concentration on her face. Lucas and Circuit watched apprehensively as she sprinted toward the gadget, and brought her hands down on the hologram-builder spikes with a loud "_Hyyaah_!"

A few smoky sputters, and the holographic screen flickered to life, as the system initiated itself.

Lucas's jaw dropped.

Jen smiled triumphantly, and rubbed her hands. "Works every time."

"Most effective, Miss Jen, but I must wonder about the stability of the machine if that technique is used too often…" Circuit said, glowing eyes blinking.

Lucas just shook his head, and lifted a nearby power cable.

Circuit seemed to welcome his move. "If you'll please, Lucas, I would like to recharge now, before the captain calls. I believe the past one hour has really frazzled my internal circuitry."

He affixed the cable into one of Circuit's internal circuits, while the robot closed its eyes, and began to recharge. Lucas sighed and dropped into a nearby chair, inexplicably exhausted. Jen sat across him, still smiling. _Come to think of it, I haven't seen her this happy since before Alex died_. He cleared his throat.

"_Somebody's_ cheerful today."

Her eyebrows rose, pink lips curling into a mock pout, which, surprisingly set off alarm bells in Lucas's head. "Is that a crime, or something?"

"No, not really." He waved a hand vaguely. "You know what they say about sharing the joy."

"Why I'm happy?" She leaned back, the last fading rays of sunlight filtering in through the window throwing shadows over her face, throwing her strong features into sharp relief. Lucas felt as if he had just seen a painting come to life, and the ethereal nature of the whole situation rose when she began to speak, her voice low, soft, and loaded with meaning. "To be honest, I don't know myself. I guess today's just been so _peaceful_ – no mutants to fight, which was kind of a relief " – Lucas found himself agreeing wholeheartedly – "and I… I was reminded of how wonderful it used to be, before the whole mess with Ransik started."

Lucas's eyes narrowed. "I thought those memories would be painful."

Jen sighed. "I guess they _were_, but I'm sure Alex wouldn't like me to remember him that way, you know? He was the best thing that ever happened to my life, and I'd like to remember him that way. All the happy times." She fingered the thin silver engagement ring on her right hand, almost absentmindedly.

There was a moment of silence after that, heavy with a billion emotions that seemed to roil within Lucas's soul.

He'd always had a distinct interest in Jen, even before they were assigned to the same missions. He was interested in what he considered a 'very curious' personality of hers, her determination, her stubbornness, how she could transform from being a nervous young girl to a strong young woman of calibre and decision.

He remembered her on the day they had first been admitted into the Time Force Academy, two nervous fifteen year olds among many other nervous fifteen year olds, overawed by the reputation of the Academy and the organisation they were entering, and anxious of the onerous responsibilities they would one day have to assume. They had been assigned to the same group, and Jen, for all her faults, had been the most determined and hardworking of theirs.

There had been a time of self-doubt, Lucas knew, and that had been the time Alex had made – no, _crashed_ – his way into their lives.

He had watched them as that intangible feeling rose between them, and he had worried.

No, he had been angry.

Furious.

He had seethed every time Jen leaned against Alex's strong shoulders, sighing contentedly, every time his hands had guided hers in range practice, every time she had smiled at him with a smile that radiated love so unconditional that many people could only dream of having someone love them like that…

He had been the best student in their batch. Best pilot. Best fighter. Champion racecar driver. It was obvious that she ought to have approached _him_, but Alex, a senior student, had come and simply stolen her heart away. It was just not right.

It was just not in the scheme of things.

He looked across the table at Jen again, and realised that he wanted her. He had wanted her from the beginning. Her stubborn, fiery nature complemented his cool, sensible one perfectly. They would have fit, would have been another perfect piece in the jigsaw puzzle of life. Up till the incident with Ransik and their appearance in 2001, the want had been not so much as love as the desire to set order to his life.

But when they met Wes –

That desire morphed into competitive lust, fuelled by his fury.

Alex had taken away last piece to his perfect life not once, but twice!

"Um, Lucas? Is something wrong?"

He was startled out of his spiralling musings, to find Jen looking at him with concern. Her face was now partially obscured by shadow, as the last few rays of sunlight coming through the huge glass face of the clock glowed a soft golden colour.

She was so incredibly _beautiful_ –

"Nothing, Jen. Nothing."

He both hated and marvelled at the deep husky tones his voice had taken. So susceptible to a moment of lust fabricated by years of repressed emotions…

"Are you sure? You look a little disturbed about something."

_If only you had **any** idea…_ He heard the worn leather of his chair rustle as he stood up slowly, walking over to where she sat, looking up at him with a curious – and mostly concerned – gaze.

He bent down.

He could hear the creak of wood outside. Somebody was coming up the stairs. That somebody could see them.

But he didn't care, not really.

"Lucas?"

He reached out with one hand.

"You have something –"

_That makes me crazy. That makes me want you in my life like no other woman. _

" – on your face."

What he did next was inevitable, really. In one, indeterminable second, his lips were on hers, his hands had slid into her soft chestnut curls, and he was kissing her with a passion that he had only dreamt of… Jen was limp under his kiss for a moment, too surprised to react. The golden light filtering through the enormous glass window behind them illumined their moment, casting what felt to Lucas a magical, ethereal quality.

The door opened.

"L-Lucas?" Trip. He sounded surprised, and shocked beyond measure.

"What? Jen? Lucas?" Katie sounded incredulous, but unlike Trip, her voice held more fascination than betrayal.

"JEN!"

Wes.

Lucas, master of perception, would still be unable, many days later, to analyse the tumult of emotions Wes had expressed through that single syllable.

The next moment, Lucas and Jen's lips were torn apart, as Wes ploughed into him with a ferocity Lucas had not expected from the Red Ranger. "How _dare_ you?" Wes yelled, eyes burning with fury – and jealousy? Lucas couldn't tell – as he shoved at Lucas.

Lucas Kendall stumbled backwards, stunned by the force of that push.

"How dare you _do_ that to _her_?"

Wes had pushed against him again, uncharacteristic anger and strength fuelled by some indeterminable source, as the other Rangers watched in stunned, paralysed silence. Lucas was literally shot toward the window –

-- but, this time, he couldn't stop himself.

The shatter of glass pierced the air as the glass clock face cracked and shattered behind the force of his impact, and he was falling, the light reflecting on the millions of tiny glass fragments that followed him on the long, slow descent.

And through the high piercing sound of the shattering glass that echoed over and over again in his ears until the pain seared through his body, he heard one voice clearly, as though she had been standing right by him, soft lips against his ear:

"LUCAS!"


	2. Pain

**_Two: Pain_**

Whatever happened, Lucas Kendall was a trained Time Force Officer – first and foremost.

Reflexes honed by years of training in conditions that tested both body and mind kicked in, and he twisted his body, angling his fall, so that he would land on the nearby hedges, which would soften his landing.

_Or soften my deathbed_, Lucas thought with a touch of bitter humour.

The fall was surprisingly harder than he had expected, knocking all the breath out of his lungs. The barbed branches of the hedge tore at his skin and jacket, while the falling glass fragments had left a dozen nasty scratches down his limbs. He rolled onto the lawn, landing on his back, trying desperately to regain some semblance of breath. The heavy bruising his body had taken – particularly his chest, which felt like he had just cracked half his ribs – didn't make the job any easier.

Even then, gasping for breath, pushed to his death by a man he considered his friend, he could only think of the Time Force – and _her_.

_Lucas_, she had said. _Lucas_, with such concern and shock, torn between her dizzying astonishment at the kiss she had just received, and horror at what Wes had just done.

It only made him love her even more.

He groaned, having finally caught his breath. He rose shakily, slowly to his feet, one hand held over his injured ribs. He held a nearby tree for support, and wondered at the thoughts that were coursing through his mind.

_Love. Hmph. Lucas Kendall, you sure have changed since you came to this blasted time period._

He could hear the voices of the other Rangers starting to filter toward his direction, and decided that it was about time he left. Somehow, he couldn't bear the thought of seeing them again. Not when his lust had thrown off the team's balance so much.

Not when Wes still loved Jen.

He reached down and stroked the dial on his wrist morpher and felt the pleasant tingling sensation as his body morphed into the Time Force Blue Ranger.

The morpher was a remarkable thing, really. One of the most sophisticated technologies that the big brains of the Time Force Academy had created. A device that connected to your DNA, your genetic code, and translated that into the appropriate Ranger uniform and weapons. What made the Rangers so invincible in their morphed forms was that they literally had a copy of their own self – besides the elaborate protection gear that the uniform provided – that covered their original bodies; another expression of their personality that provided them the shielding that they needed. The morpher was now a part of him, and he was part of the morpher.

He had not chosen to be Blue Ranger; Blue Ranger had chosen to manifest himself in him.

Normally Lucas wouldn't have thought of messing with equipment like this – there were stories about former Rangers who had gotten so ingrained with their morpher that they had grown obsessed with their Ranger status. Lucas had seen some of the symptoms in Alex, himself – when his dead comrade had been the Red Ranger. Lucas had sworn never to go down that path, despite the glory that it carried, thanks to the immense amount of disorder that came with the extra responsibility.

But when the mess with Ransik had happened, and Alex died –

When he had seen Jen's tears, and her unbendable will and determination to go back in time and capture Ransik once and for all –

-- he realised that he had no choice.

The morpher had already chosen him.

Lucas limped away as fast as he could, moving among the shadows. He turned off his communicator, trying not to breathe too heavily, trying to suppress the pain shooting from every part of his body, thankful for the night that had settled onto the city. His Ranger uniform made things slightly easier, but Lucas still felt uncomfortable staying morphed for large periods of time.

He looked back at the clock tower one last time, a tall black spire against the navy-blue sky.

_I will end this for you, Jen. You – **we** – need not suffer anymore._

Yes – once Ransik was defeated, they could get back to the future. Start over. And until that was achieved, he would not waste time doing small jobs, engaging in petty jealousies, and fighting mutants in a dreary, daily routine – a routine that took them no closer to reaching their goal.

He would defeat Ransik – whatever it took.

----------------------------

"Lucas!"

Wesley Collins watched with almost frightening detachment as Lucas – his second-in-command, his friend – fell through the shattered glass clock face, surprise and an eerie sort of satisfaction etched onto his sharp features. After what seemed an eternity later – during which Jen's scream, Katie and Trip's gasps echoed again and again in the small room until Wes's universe seemed to reverberate with the sound – he heard a muffled thud. Lucas had landed.

Jen ran to the edge of the shattered glass face, peering at the darkened lawn below, delicate brow furrowed in concern. "I can't see him." Her hands bunched into fists. "I can't see him!" She whirled around and glared at Wes, hazel eyes filled with disbelief that a man she had slowly come to respect – maybe even love – had done such a callous thing. Her lips trembled, as if she were about to explode.

However, Trip was the first to respond.

"Wes… why did you do that?"

The Xybrian's normally cheerful voice was filled with pain, disbelief – his unassuming, pure ideals shattered by what he had just seen.

Wes could've stood up to yelling, accusing, maybe even fighting, but he couldn't bear to hear the betrayal in Trip's voice.

"I'm… sorry. I… he…"

"_Sorry_? Is that all you can say?" Jen had finally exploded. "After sending Lucas to his death, all you can say is _sorry_?"

"What else do you expect me to say?" Wes shouted wildly. "He… he was _kissing_ you, Jen! Was… was _kissing_ you…" He trailed off, adding mentally, _And you weren't protesting._

"Maybe what he did was wrong, but you had no right to react like that, Wes," Jen responded acidly. "You had no right to interfere in my personal life."

Wes staggered back a few steps, as if she had just slapped him across the face. "And what does that imply?" he tried to retort, but couldn't quite mask the tremor that crept into his voice along with the question.

She didn't answer.

"Tell me, Jen, what does that imply?" he pressed without quite knowing why he was doing so.

More silence, that seemed to settle onto the clock tower room like a crushing blanket of snow, suffocating them. A breeze blew in from the broken window, ruffling Jen's hair.

"You love him, don't you?" he whispered, the inference bringing him more pain that he had originally imagined it would. "You love Lucas."

Jen's gaze shifted to the floor. "I… I don't…"

"That's quite _enough_."

Katie's sharp command cut through the silence, startling both Wes and Jen.

"We need to go down there and look for Lucas – check if he's still alive." Katie's dark eyes had clouded, but her voice didn't falter. "We don't have time to waste arguing here – he might be badly hurt."

"I have to agree, guys," Trip said, striding toward the door. "We can resolve this later."

One hour of intense searching later, the four exhausted Rangers hadn't found anything. The only thing that hinted at what had happened were the glass fragments scattered over the lawn, a few them limned with blood.

Lucas's blood.

Jen leaned against the tower wall, closing her eyes, her mind in a state of disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not on _this_ mission. Not when she was trying to avenge Alex…

"It seems like Lucas has left us," Wes said wearily. "Either that, or he's been kidnapped."

"He wouldn't allow himself to be kidnapped without making _some_ sort of noise," Katie said.

"What if he had been unconscious?"

"Even so, we would've heard something. Cyclobots and mutants aren't the subtlest of kidnappers, and there's no way Ransik or Nadira could've known of this so quickly."

"So," Jen said slowly. "You're implying that he just… just _left_?"

Katie nodded. "Seems like the only thing that could've happened."

Trip tried to smile. "Hey, look at the bright side, guys. At least Lucas is alive, and was well enough to leave before we could find him." He spread his hands. "He's probably just… upset about this whole thing, that's all. Maybe we should give him some time to cool off. Think it over. He'll return to us soon, I'm sure of it."

"But we don't have the luxury of so much time," Jen said softly. "Without him, our ranks are seriously depleted. With the emergence of the Quantum Ranger and Q-Rex and the uncertainty regarding the Silver Guardians' loyalty, this problem couldn't have chosen a worse time to rear its head."

Wes bit his lip. "He has his morpher, right? Have you tried tracking him through that?"

Katie gave him a deadpan look. "Of course. He's turned his communicator off, and though I know his morpher is currently activated, it's almost impossible to find out his exact location right now."

"It seems to me that he doesn't want to be found." Trip looked at his friends seriously. "Like I said guys, we don't have a choice now. At least for the next twenty-four hours. We'll try to reason with him, try to persuade him to come back then, okay?"

Jen stared at Trip for a long time, then nodded slowly. Katie and Wes were quick to concur with the Pink Ranger. "He'd better come back before that," Katie muttered.

The four Rangers silently trooped back inside the tower, feeling an inexplicable exhaustion seep into their bones. Trip brought the rear, his gaze shadowed and worried as he looked at Wes, and then the red morpher tied around his wrist. _Alex's morpher…_

Trip shook his head and clenched his fists.

_What is it doing to you, Wes?_

_--------------------------------------_

Eric Meyers, currently Quantum Ranger, head of the Silver Guardians, and a very satisfied man, drove through the dark road to his apartment, mind buzzing with all the information he had just received.

Bio-Labs, since the formation of the Silver Guardians and his unprecedented acquiring of the Quantum Morpher, had become a literal beehive of scientists and soldiers, the former keen on analysing the mutants that were attacking the city, and the latter keen on destroying them. There was always something new being discovered, or invented – theories, from the wildest to the most pragmatic, being flung all over the place, devices that defied modern sciences being constructed on a nearly daily basis.

But none of them were as weird, Eric reflected, as the one that rested in his pocket at that moment.

He patted the little bulge of the device that he held in his shirt pocket, its miniscule size belying the magnitude of its importance.

-

"_Eric, I need you to take care of this for my sake. For Bio-Labs'. For humanity's."_

_Unfazed by the uncharacteristic drama from the chief of Bio-Labs, Eric examined the little sphere he had cupped in his palm. "Me, sir?"_

"_Yes, you, Eric." Mr. Collins had called him by his first name twice already. This had to be important. "You, as Quantum Ranger, are the only one here capable of handling this job." He clasped his hands behind his back, and switched his narrowed gaze onto Eric. "That little sphere could be the answer to everything that Bio-Labs – and the Silver Guardians – have been trying to achieve. We have to use it when the time is right."_

_Eric stiffened. "I accept this responsibility, sir."_

"_And I'm sure you'll carry it out without a hitch. However, Eric, I need you to remember this: you will not speak of this sphere – and of its power – to anybody else, other than myself and Dr. Zaskin. Not even to your subordinates. And especially not to the Time Force Rangers."_

"_Of course, sir. I understand. I will not divulge information about this to anybody else."_

"_Excellent, Eric. I knew I could depend on you."_

_-_

Eric sighed, and leaned back in his seat for a moment. _I wonder where all that trust was before I became Quantum Ranger_.

Suddenly, his headlights illumined the figure of a person stumbling across his path, and Eric had his trained reflexes to thank as he immediately grabbed the steering wheel and swerved away, missing the person by barely a few inches. _Another one of those drunks, I suppose_, Eric thought derisively, as he brought the skidding car to a halt, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car, ready to give the pathetic fool a piece of his mind.

The 'drunkard' beat him to it.

"You know, Meyers, you're not a half-bad driver."

Eric stiffened at the perfectly sober voice, its deep tones so familiar it sent chills down his spine. "Who the hell are you?"

The mysterious figure stepped into the light, and Eric's eyes narrowed at the dishevelled, bruised form; the torn black jacket and jeans, at the nasty scar on his forehead and arms.

"You're… you're one of Wes's _friends_, aren't you." It wasn't a question. "Blue Time Force Ranger."

The man nodded. "I'm Lucas Kendall."

_Does he know about the sphere?_ "What do you want?"

The man took a deep breath. "I've come to you," he said, "to make a proposition."

Eric's eyebrows rose. "A proposition?"

"Yes – one that you can't refuse."

"I'll be the judge of that."

Lucas stepped closer. "I wish to join the Silver Guardians."

Eric's eyebrows now rose so much that they seemed to be in danger of disappearing into his hairline. "You wish to join us? Now? Why the sudden change of mind?"

"The other Rangers and I… have come to a certain _disagreement_ as far as our strategy is concerned." The calm brown gaze was almost haunting. "I believe the Silver Guardians have a better chance of achieving our goals, and this time, I wanted to make the right choice."

Eric couldn't believe it. After having refused the offer before to join the Silver Guardians with his friends, Eric found it incredulous that the Blue Ranger would willingly seek the out and wish to join. "And how do I know you're not a spy?"

A flicker of annoyance passed through Lucas's face. "I assure you, my loyalties are now with your side."

"Hm." This was the opportunity that the Bio-Labs had been waiting for. Having two Rangers working for them – especially if one of them was an experienced Time Force Ranger – would surely quadruple their strength. And, Eric, reflected, there were always ways to keep Lucas from knowing too much…

He expelled a deep breath. "All right, Lucas Kendall, I accept your proposition."

He shook Lucas's extended hand.

"Ranger Kendall, Welcome to the Silver Guardians."


	3. Betrayal

**_A/N:_** Thanks to those who reviewed!

A few important notes about this story: first of all, here, the Time Force Rangers come from 300 years into the future, not 1000. The 'thousand year' thing always seemed a bit ridiculous and far-fetched to me.

Second, this story diverts from the original series after "Clash for Control". So you can kind of call it an AU of sorts.

Third, there will be little to no 'zord' fights – I've always considered zords to be another one of those 'far-fetched and ridiculous' aspects of Power Rangers in general.

Fourth, my explanations regarding a few elements of the series, like morphers, and such, might be quite different.

Having said all of that, do read and enjoy!

* * *

_**Three: Betrayal**_

"_Jen, I've been thinking."_

_She looked up at him, brown eyes glowing with that warmth that had melted his heart, her lovely, soft lips curled into a bright smile. "Thinking, Alex?" she said, with that mirthful sparkle in her voice. "Since when were you **not** thinking?"_

_Alex couldn't help it. His lips drew themselves into a lopsided, roughish grin. "Since the day I saw you."_

_She giggled, leaning slightly over the railing that overlooked the expanse of the Time Force Academy. "So, what was it that you were thinking about?"_

_Alex reached into his pocket, feeling suddenly – and inexplicably – nervous. She was not looking in his direction anymore, apparently smiling and waving at something that had caught her attention below. 'Do it, Alex,' he thought to himself. 'No time like the present to…'_

"_Hey, Jen!"_

_Alex jerked, startled, nearly causing the precious box to tumble over the railing. He turned around, ready to give the person who had interrupted them a piece of his mind…_

_Jen beat him to it._

"_Hey, Lucas!" She grinned widely at a tall Asian man, dark hair severely gelled back and a wide grin on his handsome face, dressed in what seemed to be a hover-bike racing jumpsuit. "How did the races go?"_

_He tapped a shining holographic badge on his chest. "What do you think?" He smirked. "Those guys didn't have a chance."_

_Jen laughed. "That's fantastic, Lucas – congratulations!"_

"_Thanks, Jen." He gestured toward Alex. "Going to introduce me anytime soon…?"_

"_Oh. I'm sorry." Jen looked to Alex. "Alex, this is Lucas Kendall, self-proclaimed 'champion' at racing." She smiled. "He graduated out of the Academy with me last year."_

_Alex raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"_

"_And Lucas, this is…"_

"_Lieutenant Alexander Drake, Red Ranger and Time Force's hero," Lucas finished, his words seeming to have a gratingly cocky inflection to Alex's ears. "Of course I've heard of him." _

_He gestured behind him. "They're going to be showing the race highlights at Silver Centre sometime soon. Care to come and watch?"_

"_Well, seeing as it's my off-day… why not?" She glanced behind her. "What about you, Alex? Are you coming?"_

_He could feel Lucas's triumphant gaze on him – he could **feel** it. Alex fought back a scowl and deposited the box into the depths of his pocket again. "I'm sorry, Jen, but I can't. Captain Logan asked me to meet him later this afternoon."_

_Jen looked disappointed. "Well, all right then. See you later."_

_He nodded, and watched as Jen and Lucas got on to Lucas's hover-bike. Alex's fists clenched until the knuckles turned white, as Lucas flashed him a cheeky grin just before donning his helmet, sitting unnecessarily close to Jen in the process. A couple of minutes later, the bike had neatly swerved into a skyway leading out of the Time Force Academy._

_Alex watched as it disappeared into a receding silhouette in the orange-red sky, filled with an emotion he couldn't describe._

_Lucas Kendall._

_Alex turned around and strode back into the Base, fists clenched._

_He would remember that name._

-

"Wes? Wes! Get up already!"

Wesley Collins opened his eyes to a blur of dusty brown ceilings, emergency lights flashing and beeping from every possible direction, interspersed with Jen's increasingly irritated voice.

"Wha – what? A mutant already?" He roused himself from the last grasping tendrils of slumber, still disoriented.

"Yeah." Jen entered the room, Pink morpher already affixed to her wrist, laser-pistol ready at her belt. "Apparently Ransik's got himself an alarm clock." She sighed. "The mutant is causing havoc somewhere in the vicinity of Silver Centre. Trip and Katie…"

The rest of her words escaped Wes as he pondered upon what she had just said.

_Silver Centre?_

That dream…

"Jen," he said suddenly. She frowned and took a step back, apparently unused to being interrupted. "Does Silver Centre exist in your time as well?"

She tilted her head. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing important." _Alex… Lucas… Jen… what was that dream all about?_

"If it's not important, I'd suggest you don't waste any more time and begin heading towards Silver Centre," Jen said, her voice cold. With that, she strode out of the room.

Wes stared after her, wondering if something was wrong. Then the memory of the events of the previous evening hit him with all the force of a bucket of icy water being dumped over his head. Lucas kissing Jen… an indeterminable rage seizing hold of his limbs… shattering glass… Lucas falling… missing… fading from their lives…

His hands shook.

"Wes! Are you coming, or not?"

_Coming?_

He grabbed the Red Ranger morpher from his bedside table, and strapped it around his wrist.

He revelled in the power that then flowed through him.

_Yes, Jen. I'm **coming**.

* * *

_

Trip Regis was apprehensive.

That, by itself, was something for everybody to be concerned about; the Xybrian's ability to foretell the near future made his words and feelings something to be considered seriously, but this time, the Green Ranger found the cause for his apprehension to be so convoluted and intertwined, that trying to figure it out was like prodding a nest of coiling, squirming vipers.

It could be what happened the previous night, he reasoned, as he moved into the area of disturbance with the other Rangers. Lucas leaving them seemed to be having serious repercussions not only his own sense of danger, but the bonds that had held the team together, as well. He could sense a frigid wall that had suddenly come up in between Wes and Jen (though the cause barely warranted the severity of the frigidness) and Katie's growing doubts and unease. Lucas had to come back soon, Trip reflected, if they were to survive as a team…

But, somehow, there seemed to be something bigger going on, as well…

"Rangers, eh? I was expecting you."

The mutant was as hideous as they came – Trip nearly sighed as they morphed. Wes and Jen pulled out their laser guns and began a full-fledged frontal attack, while he and Katie lingered, watching their leaders' backs, waiting for the inevitable that was soon to come.

They didn't have to wait long.

In a few seconds, Silver Centre was swarming with Cyclobots.

Trip welcomed the mind-numbing flurry of battle as he and the other Rangers kicked, punched, shot and swiped at the Cyclobots attacking from all sides. For some reason, today they seemed more persistent, resilient, and every punch that they threw, every stray laser beam that struck their fortified Ranger suits seemed to have doubled in power, and had Trip doubling over in pain, stumbling, stars flashing in front of his eyes, interspersed with flashing colours, like a crazed kaleidoscope.

The other Rangers seemed to be having the same problem as well, and they quickly regrouped in a corner of the square.

"Something's wrong today," Katie said, her breath coming in short gasps from behind her mask. She tapped her yellow Ranger suit. "Something that has to do with our Ranger powers."

Jen shook her head in confusion as they dodged another round of laser fire. "It can't just be Lucas's absence that's causing this…"

Somehow, the very mention of Lucas's name had Wes jerk upright. He pulled out his Time Blades. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting this matter over with." Trip could almost see Wes's light brows creasing, that familiar stubborn look clouding his blue eyes. With that determined statement, Wes ran out to meet the oncoming waves of Cyclobots, a feral yell escaping his mask.

Trip gasped.

Cyclobots fell by the dozen, robotic innards torn in all directions.

"H-How?" Katie wondered by his side, and Jen shook her head in response. But Trip knew exactly what was happening.

Jealousy was a powerful thing, it would seem.

Trip knew that it wasn't Wes's fault – not entirely, anyway – but when he was Red Ranger, he was not Wesley Collins; nor was he Alexander Drake.

He was a different man altogether.

Alex's morpher hadn't been just a weapon he could use to turn into a supersoldier – it was a physical manifestation of his very personality, and when the morpher had synchronised itself with Wes's DNA, it had transferred some of Alex's own characteristics into him, merged itself with Wes's persona so deeply, that it was difficult to determine whether the Red Ranger currently fighting Cyclobots with such manic fury was really Wes or Alex.

Apparently, one of those transferred 'characteristics' constituted a strong dislike for Lucas.

_Well_, Trip thought, sighing. _That explains a few things._

But _that_ wasn't what was worrying him – not really. It was their current weakness, and the way it traced back to their morphers.

The incident concerning Wes and Lucas had exposed all of their emotional vulnerabilities, leaving them hanging on the edge of a virtual precipice. Somehow, this emotional weakness was influencing their morphers, and their powers were suffering as a result. This was why, Trip realised, morphers were kept under such strict scrutiny, and why he, Jen, Lucas and Katie weren't authorised their use until the whole Ransik emergency.

The morphers provided them with unimaginable power, but it was also slowly driving them towards insanity.

Insanity that could very well result in a painful death.

Trip snapped out of his thoughts just in time to see Wes mercilessly slash apart the last Cyclobot in his path, and move toward the mutant, whose lipless gash of a mouth had twisted into a wicked facsimile of a smile, greasy, thorn-tipped tentacles writhing. One of those tentacles twisted to attack a fury-blinded Wes from behind.

Jen stumbled forward. "Wes!"

Wes swivelled around, blade coming up, but it was too late. Trip's muscles clenched in an involuntary wince.

Suddenly, a blue-clad figure zoomed into view, knocking the tentacle aside before it could spear through Wes. The newcomer twisted in mid-air, following up on the move, delivering a stunning blow to the mutant's mid-section using a pair of very familiar blue Time Blades. Trip's eyes widened in impossible hope. "Lucas!"

"The Silver Guardians have arrived. The situation is under control. I repeat, under control."

Trip felt his hope crumbling.

_Eric._

Quantum Ranger was soon at the scene, and he and Lucas, in a series of co-ordinated, efficient movements, had annihilated the mutant. It disappeared in a spectacular explosion of fire and sound, reduced to nothing but a inert tiny version of its earlier self. Lucas grabbed a containment tube from within his Ranger arsenal, and soon had the frozen mutant inside.

Trip could almost see Eric grinning smugly behind his mask. "Next time, _Time Force Rangers_, I'd suggest you leave the fighting and capturing to someone who actually _knows_ what he's doing."

Wes ignored Eric, pushing past him, and grabbed at the front of Lucas's blue Ranger suit. "Are you with them?" he growled.

The Blue Ranger patiently pried Wes's hands off his suit. "Them?"

"The Silver Guardians," Wes hissed. "You've joined them, haven't you." It wasn't a question.

There was a long, long moment of silence. Then: "Yes."

Katie gasped, and all six of them demorphed. Wes's face was now nearly as red as his suit, and he was fuming, eyes flaring. Trip felt a terrible numbness seep into his limbs, and he wanted nothing more than to sit down, and bury his head in his arms.

_Lucas has joined the Silver Guardians._

There really _was_ no hope left for their team now.

Lucas walked past a fuming Wes, who was still too incensed to speak. His eyes were icy, dispassionate. Almost frightening. "We can take this back to Bio-Labs for research, Eric," he said, walking toward the demorphed Quantum Ranger.

Trip stumbled into Lucas's path. "Lucas," he said, looking into that icy brown glare, searching for the Lucas he knew (or thought he knew) – his best friend. "Lucas, why're you doing this?"

He didn't answer.

"Lucas!" Katie called. "Stop – you _can't_ be doing this to us!"

Still no answer, as he continued his walk towards the car that had brought him and Eric to Silver Centre.

Finally, Jen spoke up. "Lucas," she said softly, her voice holding just a faint note of hurt, but Trip could sense the huge amount of pain that came with uttering that single name.

Pain at Lucas's betrayal.

Lucas stopped, his shoulders stiffening. Trip's heart thundered against his ribcage, thundering like a panicked bird in its cage, trying to get out. Was there still hope?

Lucas turned, and some of that iciness in his gaze had softened. Now he just looked… sad. Exhausted. The bruises and scratches on his face and hands seem to stand out in stark contrast to his pale skin. "I'm sorry, Jen," he said quietly, and then he turned away, got into the car with Eric, and they were gone… gone…

_Gone…_

Would Ransik have anything left to do, Trip wondered, if the Rangers' own powers were tearing them apart?

* * *

Deep in the forest that bordered Silver Hills City, in a crashed timeship whose surface was long overgrown with vines and moss, the being that had changed that had changed the six Rangers' lives forever, sat contemplating in front of a screen. His daughter came and settled herself next to him, pink hair falling into her face, red lips drawn into a pout. "What's wrong, Daddy?"

Ransik's only reply was a small smile.

Nadira grew more annoyed. "You could let me in on the secret, you know!"

Ransik's smile grew into a full-fledged smirk, his one exposed eye narrowing into a slit. "Some _very_ interesting developments have occurred, my dear." He clenched and unclenched his fist, gazing at his pockmarked skin with something akin to fascination. "The air-headed fools of the present have made a very… _interesting_ discovery."

He snaked his other arm around her shoulders.

"That discovery will be their ultimate downfall."

* * *


	4. Imminent

_**Four: Imminent**_

"Why did you do it?"

Eric Meyers folded his arms, leaning against the gleaming chrome-plated walls inside the Headquarters of the Silver Guardians, a ring of keys jingling from one hand. His question had been directed at Lucas, who stood with a tired, and decidedly exasperated look, in front of a locked door. "I didn't think you were the curious type," Lucas said.

A corner of Eric's lips lifted in a sneer. "Oh, I'm the last person to be interested in your personal life." He narrowed his eyes. "But joining the Silver Guardians is not a joke. Nor is it something you can use for your petty jealousies."

Lucas sighed. "I think I already made my intentions clear during my meeting with Wes's f– Mr. Collins, at which, if I remember correctly, you were there."

"I was also there when Mr. Collins told me of your initial outright refusal – when he _approached_ you. Personally."

Lucas managed a smirk. "Still got some trust issues, Captain Meyers?"

"If that's what you call it."

"Do you honestly think the Rangers even need a spy?" Lucas rolled his eyes. "That's like asking a Time Programmer to spy on some cavemen so that he could get a few strategy tips."

Eric snorted. "I'm sure he could use plenty of them."

"Listen, I've only come here because Ransik is a real threat, and needs to be professionally dealt with. That's all."

"Whatever." Eric stood up straight and inserted one of the keys into the keyhole of the door behind Lucas. With a deft twist of his wrist and a soft _click_, the door opened. "Your new quarters." He tossed him the spare key. "I want you bathed, dressed and in Mr. Collins' office in three hours."

"Sure." The half-bitter smile still etched on to his face, Lucas watched Eric stride out of his sight, before entering his new…

Room?

Quarters?

Home?

What was it, really?

He shook his head – and the unnecessary questions – and took a good look around the room. It was smaller than he had wanted, but much bigger than he had expected. The walls were a plain, unflattering white with the Silver Guardians and BioLabs logo etched on one side. The bed was directly below it – it was small with a thin, hard mattress and an even thinner pillow, but at least it was better than the bunk bed he was used to sleeping in back at the Clock Tower.

A ceiling fan had started twirling lazily as soon as he had entered the room. A small wooden desk and lamp stood to one side, complemented by an equally small wooden chair. The door adjacent to this, Lucas discovered, led to a small, albeit well-equipped attached bathroom.

_Wow_, Lucas thought, impressed. _And here I was thinking Meyers would have me languishing in a cramped room with thirty other sweaty soldiers sharing one bathroom._

But there was still something _missing_… something important…

Lucas looked around the room once again, frowning.

Then it hit him.

_Of course – there's no mirror!_

He wasn't prepared for the amount of panic that hit him when he realised the fact. Sure, maybe that wasn't supposed to be on top of his priority list just about now, but without having the assurance of having a mirror to look into close by, he felt almost… incomplete. Fearful, even.

_Seriously, Lucas, get a hold of yourself!_

He resolved to nip into the Clock Tower to grab his mirror – and possibly the hair gel (the gooey stuff that went by the same name in the 21st century was a terrible substitute) – whenever he could get the chance. Even so, he felt resentful. At least the bathroom could've been outfitted with some kind of mirror.

For a small moment he wondered if it were Meyers' doing – a discreet design to expose his primary weakness.

But then again, he wasn't prepared to attribute to his new captain that sort of subtlety.

His new uniform lay neatly folded on a corner of the bed, dark blue with the Silver Guardians insignia, with the red cap laid smartly on top. Lucas fingered his now-frayed jacket. _Well, at least there's no denying that Wes had decent fashion sense_.

A terrible exhaustion seeped into his limbs then, reminding him that he had had no more than half-an-hour of restless sleep in a cramped couch in the reception area of BioLabs the previous night – not to mention having nearly fallen to his death a few hours before that – and so he collapsed onto the thin, thin mattress provided by the cold, cold Eric Meyers, his new captain after that night… that chill night, tempered by the heat of Jen's lips, the fire of Wes's fury, and…

Lucas was asleep even before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Trip Regis stared into emptiness, unseeing.

The soft green glow of the holographic screen of the Time Interface computer played on his face as various figures and codes ran across it, unnoticed. Circuit twittered at its side, the unnaturally perceptive robot currently very concerned for its young creator. "Trip? Trip!"

"It's so weird," the Green Ranger said softly, as if talking to himself. "Everything changed so fast."

Circuit's glowing eyes blinked slowly. "You need not worry, Trip. Lucas will return soon, I'm sure of it."

"Even if he does, nothing will be the same."

The robotic owl tilted its head. "Well, I can only say that I'm glad the others have left on jobs, or they would be doubly as concerned about this uncharacteristic pessimism of yours."

Trip turned in his chair to face Circuit, eyes narrowed and lips pursed, thoughtful. He then took a deep breath and slapped his thighs, seemingly coming to a decision. "You know what, Circuit? You're right. By moping, I'm allowing myself to fall into the same trap I'm so afraid to fall into." He paused, a small grin curving his lips. "If that made any sense."

The eyes flashed and the wings flapped in an eerily human facsimile of a smile. "It certainly makes more sense than your pessimistic fit."

Trip began to laugh, before the Time Interface's screen changed from the familiar green backdrop to a harsh, flashing red. Circuit's eyes opened all the way and its voice began to shriek out: "Trip! Look – the Time Flow Line!"

"I'm looking, I'm looking!" Trip muttered, turning in his seat to face the computer, fingers flying in complicated manoeuvres over the keypad. A graphic with a wildly undulating green line, surrounded by several unintelligible figures, came up on the screen. This was the so-called "Time Flow Line", a misnomer jokingly used by several Time Programmers in the 24th century. The whole concept of time 'flowing' was a ridiculous and old-fashioned one, of course – the Time Flow Line was merely a simplified graphical representation of the complex Quantum Mechanics they used in engineering their "Time Jumps".

Generally, the Line was supposed to be straight and true, indicating normalcy. It had gone haywire in a similar fashion when Ransik and his cohorts had first made their appearance in the 21st century, followed shortly by himself, Lucas, Jen and Katie. Since then, the movement of the line had settled down to a regular, almost oscillating fashion, due to their frequent summoning of their zords from the Future and weekly meetings with Captain Logan over the Time Interface computer.

But now, it was swaying – peaking and dipping in unpredictable intervals, indicating that a portal was to open somewhere. Following the basic principles of Quantum Physics, the Line only indicated the _possibility _of a Time Jump, but for the Line to go _this_ haywire… it meant that there was a really, really strong possibility of something from the future making a jump into the 21st century. And judging by the crazy movements of the Time Flow Line, it seemed to Trip that a whole _squadron_ was preparing to make a jump.

And he was pretty sure that they weren't going to be Time Force-friendly.

Trip's fingers tapped away furiously at the keypad. "What's causing this?" he muttered. "Something's happened – or is going to happen – in the present that's going to give cause for the opening of a Time Portal _that_ big."

"It cannot be further reinforcements from the future, because Captain Logan told us nothing about any such thing last night, and…" Circuit's eyes blinked. "While we're on the subject, may I once _again_ voice my disapproval over your and the others' decision to avoid broaching the matter of Lucas leaving us and joining the Silver Guardians to Captain Logan, thereby –"

"Not _now_, Circuit," Trip begged quietly, as he keyed in a final set of complex commands. Another graphic was brought onto the screen – this time, a holographic map of 21st century Silver City, with a small blue blinking light in one area, adjacent to a spot marked by a red flashing light.

"Great," Trip said, running a hand through his hair. "I've pinpointed the possible area where the portal could open to be in the vicinity of Oaken Avenue – barely a block away from the Silver Guardians' headquarters." He looked at Circuit with something akin to desperation. "Could things get any worse?"

Those dispassionate, glowing eyes turned on him. "Perhaps you should try contacting Jen and the others about this."

Trip bit his lip, thinking about it for a while, before shaking his head. "No. They have enough on their plates as it is. At least, for now."

"Then what exactly do you plan to do about this?"

"I'm going to check out this place," Trip said, after another moment or two of thought. "Transmit this data to Captain Logan and see if the Programmers at the Academy can come up with anything." Getting up, he donned his orange jacket and slung on his usual backpack. He strapped his morpher on to his wrist and smiled at Circuit. "Since the location of the Portal seems to be more or less specific, maybe I can find some clues there as to what exactly is coming – and why." He strode toward the door. "Hold fort here till then, will you?"

"Hold fort? But Trip, wait, you –"

The voice abruptly died away as Trip closed the door behind him and jogged down the stairs. "I'm sorry, Circuit," he muttered as he ran outside and grabbed Wes's motorbike, the keys to which he had taken from the reception table. "But I have to do this."

Licking his lips, he inserted and twisted the key into ignition. Donning Wes's rather heavy helmet, he climbed on, tentatively trying the engine. He hadn't really ridden a 21st century bike before – it was so radically primitive compared to the Time Force issue bikes he was used to riding – but certain things just had to be done.

He kick-started the bike, and soon rode off in the direction of Oaken Avenue.

* * *

The door with the shining wood polish gleamed in front of Lucas Kendall, looking as alien as he felt, dressed in the official Silver Guardians uniform. The equally well-polished plaque attached to the door, informing the ignorant visitor that yes, it was indeed the office of Mr. Alexander Collins, Director, BioLabs Research Facilities, seemed to mock Lucas, seemed to tell him, _Look at what you've done. At what you've decided. At how things are spiralling downhill. At Katie, Trip, Wes. At Jen. Jen's pain…_

He gritted his teeth and gripped the ornate handle of the door, the feel of the chill metal adding some certainty to what had seemed like a series of crazed dreams.

He opened the door and entered, surprised to find only Eric, Mr. Collins, Dr. Zaskin, and another cadet waiting for him. Mr. Collins smiled. "Aah, Lucas. Come in, come in. You can close the door behind you."

Lucas did as told and walked in, still rather tentative. "I was told that there would be a meeting, uh… sir."

"Of course, of course, yes, we'll get to that part soon," Mr. Collins said, still genial. "But before that, let me introduce you to the brains behind BioLabs: Dr. Michael Zaskin. And Dr. Zaskin, this is Lucas Kendall, our newest – and possibly one of the most important – recruit."

The scientist extended his hand with a smile, which Lucas shook. "I've already seen you before. My daughter couldn't stop talking about the Blue Ranger for nearly weeks after you saved her." The smile widened. "I must thank you once again for that."

"No problem," Lucas said. "I mean, it's my pleasure. But how –"

"How did I know that you're the Blue Ranger?" Dr. Zaskin grinned. "Quite honestly, I didn't know that until just a few minutes ago. Believe me, it was a pleasant surprise."

Lucas nodded, while Mr. Collins turned to the other cadet. "This is Joe Austin, second in command to Meyers, and a voluntary candidate for the little experiment we are going to try today."

Lucas frowned. "Experiment?" It was then that he noticed the little silver sphere that Joe was cradling in his palms. "How… how did you get that?"

Dr. Zaskin stepped forward. "And now, here comes the interesting part. We've been doing a series of tests on the technology that powers Eric's Quantum morpher – honestly, once can't just _believe_ the amount of data packed into one device – as well as the mutants that have been thus far captured by the Silver Guardians. A lot of research has been going on in inventing better and better weapons to combat these threats from this future based on what we learned from those tests. And the result of all that work is… _this_." He gestured dramatically at the sphere in Joe's hands.

Lucas felt a growing sense of unease. Somehow, he didn't like where this was going at all… "What is this sphere supposed to do? Is this what you were talking about when you mentioned 'experiments'?"

"But of course," Joe said, speaking up for the first time. He had a nice, deep, almost musical voice. He exposed a set of very white teeth as he grinned at Lucas, green eyes shining. "Though I'm not particularly your regular guinea pig, hm?"

"What does it do?" Lucas said again, slowly, the unease peaking almost to the point of nausea.

Mr. Collins glanced at Eric, who nodded and brought out the containment tube containing the frozen mutant that they had captured that morning. He placed it on the table in front of Joe, who had just donned a pair of sunglasses and earmuffs. Dr. Zaskin handed pairs of the same to everybody else in the room. "The first thing to do while fighting a mutant, obviously, is to disable it long enough to get in a couple of good shots. However, we found that the normal methods – neurotoxins, chemical fumes, even radioactive waste – had almost no effects on the mutants whatsoever. It could be because of genetic adaptation – if it is, I shudder to think what the future must be like – or it could be because of something else. We're not sure.

"But anyway, we decided that to battle fire, we must use fire. A little bit of probing into the technology of Eric's morpher and your fantastic containment tubes provided us the answer. Admittedly, it was very difficult, dealing with technology that we have no idea as to how it was made, but I think we finally managed to produce something that might be effective." He waved a hand toward the sphere. "This is what we like to call Mutant Killer Prototype, or MK-1."

Lucas started. _Mutant killer?_

"This little sphere, when activated by a certified member of the Silver Guardians, will emit an electromagnetic pulse so strong that it will permanently affect the neural makeup of mutants in an at least 3 mile radius. This will disable them, paralyse them, allowing a Silver Guardian to go for the coup de grace."

_Affect all mutants in a three-mile radius…_

"But wait," Lucas said, almost desperately, "They're not just mutants. They're… _criminals_. They deserve no more than being back in containment. No less. But not outright massacre."

Eric's eyes flashed. "That might be how it is in your time, but here, we do things differently."

"Maybe, but even so –"

"Can you repeat the same words to the thousands of people who are having their lives, their homes, their _livelihood_ destroyed because of these mutants? To a world that still believes that the existence of aliens is a fabrication, that time travel is absolutely impossible? Can you, Kendall?"

"I –" Lucas averted his eyes.

Dr. Zaskin grabbed the opportunity provided by the lull in their argument to speak. "As I said, this is still a prototype, we haven't tested out the real deal yet. That is why we are going to try it on a previously frozen mutant. If we are right, the mutant should be completely and neurally paralysed in just over a minute." He slipped on his sunglasses. "Glasses and earmuffs on, please."

"But –" Lucas began again, but nobody could listen to him anymore: all of them had covered their ears with the muffs. He sighed, and put on his own.

Joe held out the little silver sphere in the direction of the frozen mutant, thumb hovering over the depression – that possibly activated the whole damn thing. They waited with bated breaths. Lucas could even see Dr. Zaskin clenching his fists and mouthing, _Come on, Austin, you can do this. Do this. Come on, now._

_DO THIS!_

Joe finally pressed his thumb down.

A terrible, terrible ringing sound immediately sounded in the room, penetrating even their thick earmuffs. Pain exploded in Lucas's head, and as he gritted his teeth and clutched at his head, he could see the others groaning in pain as well – they were probably undergoing the same experience he was.

The pain reached a terrific crescendo, and Lucas's world was suddenly white.

Pure white.

Pure, blazing, agonising white.

Suddenly black tinged at the corners of the painful white, growing bigger and bigger, until it had consumed him, and everything he was.


	5. Arrival

_**Five: Arrival**_

It seemed like aeons had passed before Lucas Kendall opened his eyes.

A small groan escaped his pursed lips as he tried to clear his hazy vision and get a clear perspective of what exactly had just happened. That sphere… that… _explosion_… that unbearable pain…

He struggled to his feet, wincing at the faint ringing still ricocheting in his head. The entire room seemed to be filled with mist – or was it some kind of smoke? He couldn't tell – and he had to wave his hands around to clear some of it before he could try checking on the others. Eric lay to one side, coughing and just beginning to get up. Both Mr. Collins and Dr. Zaskin were unconscious, but seemed to be breathing normally.

Lucas shifted his gaze to the table. The containment tube with the frozen mutant had a few wisps of the smoke-like mist floating off it, but seemed otherwise unscathed.

Finally, Lucas looked beyond the table, and immediately gagged at what he saw.

Cadet Joe Austin lay against the blood-spattered wall, eyes empty, glazed. A gaping, blood-leaking hole in his chest stood out, garishly prominent, and his hands, chipped, bleeding and terribly disfigured, still held the little blood-smeared silver sphere.

Joe Austin, dead.

Joe Austin, of the musical voice, of the bright green eyes, of the perfect teeth, of the wide grin.

Dead.

Lucas staggered to one side, fighting back waves of nausea, clutching at the table, closing his eyes, wishing for the nightmare to end soon.

* * *

It seemed so unremarkable, that Trip wondered if he had come to the wrong place.

Oaken Avenue stretched on both sides – a peaceful, residential neighbourhood – while he stared at a perfectly ordinary-looking empty warehouse, still seated on Wes's bike, engine idling. The Time Interface computer _couldn't_ have made a mistake, could it? Sure, the warehouse might be considered as a reasonably suitable place to locate a Time Jump, but there were dozens of other places, bigger and better ones, and none of them were so close to a potentially dangerous enemy – in this case, the Silver Guardians.

Trip sighed, turning off the engine. _But the probability calculations were so high…_

He took off the helmet and got off the bike, making a tentative entrance into the warehouse. The silence was starting to creep him out, and every little sound – a rat scampering across the floor, the slow _drip-drip_ of an overhead pipe, the soft rush of the early evening breeze through the windows – had him jump a few inches in the air, hand automatically hovering to his morpher. _What the hell's going on? I haven't felt **this** jumpy since the time Alex died…_

At that very moment, when the thought had barely left his mind, the gem on his forehead began to burn furiously.

_Explosion._

_Fear._

_Danger._

_Arrival._

Trip staggered, gritting his teeth. Something was coming, something bad, something _soon_…

And then, the white invaded him.

The echoes of the Silver Guardians' new mutant-disabling pulse resounded painfully in his head, making him fall to his knees and cry out in unbearable pain. He clutched at his head, wondering distantly, in a part of his mind that wasn't still burning in the visions or the pain, what exactly was going on. This pulse actually seemed familiar. He had experienced something of the same – but in a more diluted form – sometime before. In fact, he had last had this kind of experience in –

The white invasion stopped, and Trip could open his eyes.

He got to his feet, blinking, disoriented, before noticing a point of light right across the warehouse from him starting to materialise, spinning and growing bigger by every second. _Oh shit. Not good._ He scampered to hide behind one of the few old wooden boxes in the warehouse – those boxes so covered by dust and cobwebs that they looked as if they hadn't been touched in decades. _This is happening too soon…_

Finally the spinning ball of light had grown large enough to fill nearly half of the space in the warehouse, and a small dark projection began to peek out from its centre. The projection revealed itself to be a part of a Time Capsule – based on which Time Force had developed their containment tubes. This one was a pretty large Capsule, and it was some time before the portal ejected it. Immediately after the whole Capsule was released, the portal disappeared.

Was that it?

Trip passed a hand across his sweat-beaded forehead.

He had never seen such a large Time Capsule before.

Leave alone that, he had never even _heard_ of a Time Capsule being transported individually through Time Jumps, without being stored in something safe like the Timeships that Ransik and the rangers had used, or a zord of some kind. The Capsule wasn't even attached to something that equalled the safety provided by the well-secured Timeships/fighters – the same that had protected Wes when he latched on to Eric's ship while making the Jump from the prehistoric era – and its technology, even from the distant position he was observing, seemed nothing like he had ever known before.

That meant that there was only one explanation for this.

The Capsule had come from an era _beyond_ even his time. From _his_ future.

And that scared him more than anything else.

More than Ransik. More than courting danger and death from fighting criminal mutants everyday. More than the slow insanity the use of their morphers was plunging them into. More than Lucas's betrayal, more than death itself.

The fear of the unknown, he felt, was the greatest fear of them all.

_If that's how Wes, the Silver Guardians and the rest of the people in the 21st century feel about the things **we**'ve brought here, then I really can't blame them for what they're doing_.

Still not daring to get out of his hiding place – despite the fact that the Capsule still lay there, absolutely latent – Trip lifted his hand and flicked a button on his morpher. A series of soft beeps sounded, as it tried to establish contact with Jen's morpher. _Come on Jen, answer already!_

Finally, a tiny hologram of Jen flickered to life above the morpher dial. She was obviously in the middle of a job, with her hair tied back into a high ponytail, face sweaty and flushed, paint stains on both cheeks. She looked very irritated. "_This had better be good, Trip_."

Trip gave a short, almost-bitter laugh. "Good? This is generations _beyond_ 'good', Jen."

Something in his voice or face must have concerned her, for the irritation disappeared from her face and she frowned, more out of concern and anxiety than anger. "_What's wrong, Trip?_"

He told her everything that had happened that afternoon, right from the unusual vagaries in the Time Flow Line, to the appearance of the Portal, the strange Capsule, and his suspicions regarding its origin. "I'm pretty certain that this was sent from a time well beyond 2301, Jen. And it's just a Capsule. No Timeship, no time-navigational technology, as far as I can see." He lowered his voice even more, even though there was no real need to. "I felt a strong electromagnetic pulse around here, Jen. The kind that nearly decimated our Timeship when we first got here. I think that might have summoned it."

Jen's brow furrowed. "_But what kind of pulse is strong enough to call a Capsule from **that** far in the future?_"

Trip bit his lip. He had been thinking hard about that one himself. "This is only a theory," he said slowly, "but any of our morphers, with the right configuration and adjustments can be made to do this. This was actually an inbuilt safety measure in the morphers, to automatically call upon Timeships in very desperate situations, but I think someone has used this function indiscriminately, has changed it, has overshot its normal levels without even realising it."

Jen looked thoughtful. "_It can't be Wes, since he's been working here with me all afternoon, and as for Katie –_"

"Katie is too smart to do something like that," Trip said, a little too quickly. "I'm pretty sure it's not from her morpher."

For a moment the Pink Ranger looked amused, before she resumed. "_And so if it's not you or Katie, or me or Wes, then it has got to be either Eric, or –_"

"Lucas," Trip finished. "Though I'm willing to bet anything that it was the former. I'm sure that Lucas knows and understands the danger of using that reserve function of the morpher."

Jen nodded. "Then it's got to be Eric and the Silver Guardians. Probably meddling with technology they are not even supposed to know exists. Again." 

"Probably." Trip glanced at the Capsule once again. "The Capsule's been pretty dormant thus far, and I think I'm going to try and –" He stopped abruptly as the distant sounds of heavy footsteps sounded from the front of the warehouse. From the fading light filtering in through the dusty windows, he could see the shadows of two people begin to materialise. They didn't really look human.

"_What's wrong, Trip, why aren't you –_" Jen began to ask, before Trip put a finger to his lips, hastily signalling her to be quiet. "There's someone coming," he whispered. "Just wait a second."

Voices began to filter down to where he was hiding.

"But _Dad_-dy, _why_ are we coming to this smelly old place? I thought you said that you had a surprise for me!"

"This _is_ the surprise, dear; be patient."

"O-_kay_… whatever you say…"

Trip felt his breath catch in his chest. _Ransik and Nadira!_ And he had wondered if things could get any worse…

"Listen, Jen," he whispered, as quietly as he could, "Ransik and Nadira are entering the warehouse. I think they're after the Capsule. Call the others and get here as soon as you can."

"_Of course_," Jen whispered back. "_We'll be there sooner than you can say 'Time Force'_."

Trip gave a quick grin. "I'll hold you to that."

Jen nodded, and the hologram flickered and died, as they terminated communication. Trip settled himself better behind the wooden box and slowly peeked around its edge to see Ransik and Nadira finally approach the Time Capsule. _Come on,_ Trip thought, narrowing his eyes, _what are you two up to now?_

"Wow… a Time Capsule," Nadira breathed, raising her hands to her heavily powdered cheeks. "And I've never seen _such_ a big one before!"

Ransik's grotesque facial features lifted in a smirk. "This is much more than just a Capsule, Nadira – this is our final key to domination of this era."

Nadira bent down to inspect it. "And from the 25th century as well," she purred, running her long-nailed fingers across the surface of the Capsule. "How… _interesting_. We'll finally be able to get some allies who can actually _do_ something, for once."

Trip started. _25th century? But how does she know that?_ Ransik seemed as if he had known that this would be happening all along – almost as if he had been _expecting_ this to happen. What did this mean? Unless…

Trip gasped.

_It can't be_.

Unfortunately, in his moment of startling realisation, he had neglected the extremely dusty condition of the box he was hiding behind, and took in a mouthful of dust along with the gasp. Gagging, he fell on his hands and knees, and unable to control himself, broke out into a coughing fit.

Ransik and Nadira stiffened and whirled around. The former's half-masked face twisted in a triumphant smile. "Well, well, now," he said. "I don't mean to sound cliché, but I think I smell a _Ranger_."

Trip cursed inwardly in a few choice Xybrian phrases, before coming out of his hiding place. "Well, I hope you're glad to know there's nothing wrong with your olfactory senses," he said, a whole lot more confidently than he felt. _Come on Jen, Katie, Wes! What's taking you so long?_

Ransik laughed, while Nadira grinned her manic grin. "Glad? Oh, _very_." With that, he pulled out a gleaming sword from his leg – a sword whose surface shimmered and rippled as if it were made out of mercury rather than any other solid metal – and moved in to attack Trip.

The diminutive Xybrian dodged the blow by rolling onto one side, and pressed his morpher dial as he rolled back onto his feet.

"Time Force!"

The sweet flow of power coursing through his body rejuvenated him like a strong stimulant, as his body was encased in his Green Ranger suit. His powers still weren't back to one hundred percent, but at least it felt much better than what it had been that morning, when he had felt too emotionally drained to even fight Cyclobots.

He pulled out his Chrono Sabres just in time to block one of Ransik's more inspired strokes, and from thereon, their deadly duel ensued. Trip found his strength surging back with every slash of his sabres, every dodge, every smart comment he still found the breath to utter in between strokes. _This whole morpher situation might be salvageable, after all…_

A sudden blaster shot to his back, however, soon ended that hope.

With a strangled cry, he rolled to one side, curled around the pain. Nadira stepped forward, smirking, holding her blaster pistol. "You didn't think you could just forget about _me_, did you?" she drawled. He could hear Ransik chuckling distantly – low, cold, and infuriatingly triumphant.

He turned onto his back to try and get to his feet, only to find himself staring through his helmet into the ultra-thin barrel of Nadira's pistol. "Lights out, Ranger," she said, and he found himself wondering, strangely, in what seemed to be his last living moments, how beautiful she would look if she just ditched her insane ways, but even so, how she wouldn't be able to match the simple charm of a certain grease-streaked – yet so heart-stoppingly pretty – dark face, framed by long, dark, curly hair, brightened by so many genuine smiles the intensity of which even the prettiest face in the galaxy couldn't hope to match, and…

Nadira's finger closed on to the trigger and a gunshot resounded in the room, while Trip flinched involuntarily, waiting for the inevitable…

… that never came.

Instead, a sharp shriek from Nadira rented the air and Trip opened his eyes in time to see her clutching her hand in obvious pain as her dropped pistol clattered to the floor. _Wha –?_

A welcome voice drifted from the entrance to the warehouse.

"Nice to see you again, Ransik."

Trip scrambled to his feet, turning toward the entrance to see Wes standing there in his suit, Katie and Jen behind him, smoking laser pistol in one hand. _About damn time!_ Trip thought, unbelievable relief cascading through him.

Jen stepped forward, somehow managing to look domineering and in control even behind her Pink Ranger suit. "What do you plan to do with that Capsule, Ransik?"

Ransik sneered. "Why don't you experience it first-hand, Rangers?" With that, he moved his sword, hovering it over the Capsule. Trip found himself panicking, all of a sudden. Was Ransik going to activate that Capsule? _Only God knows what might be inside it!_

At any rate, he wasn't going to take any risks.

With a cry, he ploughed into Ransik before he could do anything, and from thereon, things got wild.

The entire room was filled with the sounds of battle as the four Rangers fought against Nadira and Ransik, who, despite the unfavourable odds of four against two, proved to be more than a match for the Rangers. Trip noticed, even in the heat of the battle, as laser bolts shot past him, scarcely centimetres from his helmet, that Ransik seemed rather… _distracted_ this time, almost as if he wanted to finish the fight off as quickly as possible and get on with something more important.

_And when it's something more important than defeating the Time Force Rangers,_ Trip thought, _you know it's got to be something **really** bad_.

Then it happened.

A stray laser beam – Trip had no idea if it had been an inadvertent shot from one of the Rangers', or if it had been Ransik, or Nadira – ricocheted off one of the Capsule panels, making a terrible noise that had him grimacing.

Abruptly, the fighting stopped, and all of them, friend or foe, stared at the Capsule with bated breaths.

The shot seemed to have activated something, for one of the panels of the Capsule slid open with a slight _hiss_ that built in intensity, giving out copious amounts of some kind of misty smoke in the process. Trip, through the highly improved vision provided by his helmet visor, spotted several small particles floating lazily in that smoke, as it slowly dispersed into the corners of the warehouse. This left the open Capsule in plain view.

It was empty.

A completely unremarkable interior, with seemingly no technology at all other than the basic ones required to maintain a constant temperature and pressure within the confines of the Capsule, stared back at them, mocking.

Finally, Wes spoke out loud. "Is that it?"

Trip was about to respond with a "Yeah, that's it, thank goodness," before the smoke that had begun to disperse into the warehouse suddenly congealed into a swirling whirlwind that had even the Rangers raising an arm to protect their helmeted heads. Trip suddenly found himself unable to breathe, as the air was ripped from his Ranger mask's air filters due to the ever-increasing velocity of the swirling mist. The tiny particles seemed to dance and flit in every eddy and turn of the whirlwind and Trip thought he could hear, distantly, in a mind that was already starting to fall into unconsciousness due to lack of oxygen, voices… voices of delight, voices of triumph, voices that dripped with malice and evil intent…

Just as his vision was about to go completely black, he could suddenly breathe again. He fell to the floor, gasping, only to hear what was probably the most frightening sound he had heard his entire life, leave alone that evening.

A scream.

A terrible, terrible scream, that seemed to rip through the heavy air with all the subtlety of a nuclear bomb detonating in the middle of an ocean; that tore into his ears and pierced his gem-sensitive mind until he could feel some of the pain that the person screaming was feeling.

Nadira's desperate cries seemed to join the painful cacophony. "Daddy? Daddy! What's wrong? Daddy, tell me! Daddy, stop this! Daddy, _please_!!"

Trip stumbled to his feet along with the other Rangers as Nadira still lay on her knees, staring at Ransik – _her father… Oh God, what's happening to him?_ – who stood in the middle of the room, still screaming, as the swirling mist seeped into his body, seemingly causing him considerable pain. _Those particles, could they be…?_

"We need to get out of here!" Katie cried out suddenly, her voice alarmed. "He's going to explode!"

Trip quickly turned on infrared in his visor to see large red patches quickly intensifying and widening in Ransik's body – Katie was right. Unnaturally large amounts of heat were starting to build up within Ransik's body, and he wasn't sure how long the half-mutant was going to remain stabilised. "Yeah, guys," he shouted. "Come on!" With that, he quickly grabbed one of a still-paralysed Nadira's arms, while Katie grabbed the other (nearly carrying the woman herself in the process). Jen and Wes brought up the rear as they carried Nadira, sprinting out of the warehouse – just in time, as barely had they set foot outside, the warehouse burst into flames with a spectacular explosion. The momentum threw them all out onto the road, where they came to a stop, skidding on their bellies.

The Rangers turned around, to watch the burning warehouse with shocked expressions, while Nadira dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Her piercing cries rented the still, heat-marred atmosphere, as the blood-red sun finally sunk below the horizon, bringing an end to what had been the most frightening day of Trip's life.


	6. Infestation

_**Six: Infestation**_

The blood on Lucas's hands had already started to congeal by the time the ambulance was gone.

BioLabs had literally turned into a hive of frenzied activity which buzzed behind him – people running around, hurried conversations, curious soldiers trying to calm down panicked scientists – while he stood, still as stone, eyes still fixated on the orange-yellow horizon that the ambulance had disappeared into, carrying the mutilated body of Joe Austin.

Eric approached him, hot, flustered, hands equally as blood-smeared. Lucas's lower jaw worked silently – he already knew what Eric was about to ask him.

"What in hell just _happened_?"

_I tried to tell you_, Lucas wanted to say. _I tried to tell you that using untested technology from the future could have very dangerous consequences. But you didn't listen. You didn't want to. And now…_

But he didn't say any of this.

Instead:

"I don't know."

Eric exploded. "And what does _that_ mean, huh, Kendall? We lost my second-in-command, one of our best cadets – a human _life_, and all you can say is _I don't know_?"

Lucas couldn't take it anymore. "I joined this organisation because of its professionalism, but where was the professionalism in using an untested weapon – in completely unprotected conditions, with all of the leading members of the organisation present? Huh, Meyers?"

"Of course it had been tested before on previously captured mutants!" Eric retorted. "The MK-1 went through many verifications and modifications before being completed. We had no reason to think that something would backfire today. Literally." He shot Lucas a cold look. "If you want to know, the whole demonstration arranged today in Mr. Collins' office was for your benefit."

Lucas snorted. "And that somehow makes it my fault?"

"No," Eric said. "We're not trying to throw the blame on anybody here. I meant that you _know_. You know what went wrong. And I want to know its consequences."

Lucas pursed his lips for a long moment of silence before answering. "What you did back there," he said slowly, "was send out a Time Pulse. As in, using a function of your morpher that sends out a signal to call something from the future. Like the way we call our zords."

"But that wasn't what we discovered from our previous experiments."

"Maybe not, but this is exactly what happened back there." Lucas sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Even sending a normal Time Pulse has a certain protocol that has to be strictly followed, without which you'll be putting your life at great risk. The Pulse that Joe sent, however…" Lucas shook his head. "It was completely uncontrolled. It tore him apart." He swallowed. "Literally."

Eric narrowed his eyes. "You seem to be pretty aware of the details – did you already know this was going to happen?"

Lucas fought back another sigh. "I thought we weren't playing the blame game here."

Eric ran an irritated hand through his hair. "We aren't. I just can't understand this… we – _he_ had already tried this out so many times before on frozen mutants, and nothing like this ever happened!" He clenched his fists, clearly at the edge of his patience. "I think that there's been some sort of sabotage."

The emotional tension and the tragedy of the past twenty-four hours came crashing down on Lucas's shoulders, shattering his self-control. "Oh, and now you think that _I_ sabotaged your little project, is it? Is it?" He grabbed Eric's shoulders, shaking him. "I have absolutely no idea what you've called from the future, _sabotage_ or not, but do you think I'd be _stupid_ enough to take such a risk out of which I will receive absolutely _no benefit at all_?"

Eric's eyes flared as pulled Lucas's arms away from his shoulders. "Realise, _Kendall_, that this sort of attitude will not be _tolerated_. And furthermore, I –"

The rest of what he wanted to say was rudely cut off, as an explosion in the near distance swallowed all sound.

A combination of shockwaves and cultivated reflexes sent Lucas and Eric to the ground, along with the rest of the Silver Guardians. Eric was the first to scramble to his feet to look with growing shock at the tall orange-red flames dancing against the twilight sky. "It looks like something exploded in Oaken Avenue," he breathed. "What in hell's going _on_?"

Lucas rose to his knees and his eyes widened. "Oh _no_." He swallowed. "Oh please God _no_."

Eric turned a confused frown on him. "What are you –?"

Lucas reached up and pulled his new captain to the ground again, much to the latter's surprise. He felt a chill wind blow over them – unusually chill, like tendrils of ice raking over his bare back – and he could hear the surprised gasps from many of the Silver Guardians, frenzied coughs and several _thumps_ as bodies fell to the ground.

Then it was all silence.

Deathly silence, where Eric's ragged breathing was so loud that the universe seemed to reverberate with the sound.

And into this silence, came the sound of heavy footsteps.

The crunch of gravel under heavy feet sounded closer and closer to where Lucas and Eric lay, and then past them, towards the direction of BioLabs. Eric wanted desperately to see who – or _what_ – it was, but Lucas still had a strong grip on his head, and refused to let him get up. He could hear a few human voices pipe up suddenly, only to be strangled into an equally as abrupt silence with small, wet screams. Then it was the silence again, as the footsteps faded away.

Finally, Lucas's grip loosened. Eric scrambled to his feet. "What the hell –"

"_Ssh_," Lucas said hastily, rising to his feet as well. "No noise."

Eric turned an icy glare on his new subordinate. "I assure you, _Kendall_, if even _one_ more human life has been lost today, I will make _sure_ that you will _not_ remain in this _time period_, let alone this organisation." With that ominous threat, he proceeded to check on the other Silver Guardians, who were just starting to get up.

"Wait!" Lucas shouted, running after him. "They might be… might be infected!"

Eric stopped in mid-stride, and turned. "_What_?"

"Might be infected," Lucas repeated. "That wind we felt… it was something from the future. It could have been anything. Anything…" His gaze focussed on something behind Eric, and his eyes widened in something Eric had never seen on his face – unmitigated _horror_. "Like that," he breathed.

Unnerved, Eric looked behind him. It was one of the Silver Guardians, who stood stock-still, an expression of frozen surprise on his face.

Eric frowned. He knew him.

"Carter? Pete Carter?"

The named cadet turned his gaze on Eric – slowly, too slowly – and spoke, voice strained, barely a whisper. "Help me," he said.

A bead of sweat ran down Eric's chiselled features. "Wha –?"

Some green… _liquid_… had started to ooze out of one corner of the cadet's mouth. He tried to speak again, but all that came now was some sort of vague hiss from a mouth that was bubbling with the green liquid. Small protrusions were starting to bubble on Carter's skin, travelling up and down his visible limbs and face, as if a million little insects were scrambling beneath his skin.

Eric took an unsteady step back. "C-Carter?"

At last one of the protrusions burst open in a tiny fountain of gore and green liquid, revealing a blood and slime-covered tentacle. The process repeated itself all over Carter's body, until the cadet no longer resembled anything even approaching human.

Across the front grounds, the horrific transformations continued in the bodies of several other Silver Guardians.

Eric kept stumbling back, shaking his head, mind ensconced in paralysed disbelief. "No…"

A hand gripped his arm suddenly, strong and sure. He turned to see Lucas by his side, face deathly pale and sweat-beaded, but lips set in a determined line. "We need to check on Mr. Collins and Dr. Zaskin," he said quietly.

"I – I know that," Eric said, trying to get back some semblance of control. He looked at Lucas, and began speaking slowly, voice low and disbelieving, as if he was trying to convince himself of something, "The – the Silver Guardians can survive this, you know. Silver Hills City can. The _twenty-first_ _century_ can." He swallowed. "Whatever horrors you bring from the future."

Lucas gave him a tired smile. "I know."

* * *

They found both Mr. Collins and Dr. Zaskin soon enough, the former extremely worried and the latter extremely disturbed, but both relatively unharmed. Lucas filled them in about what little he knew about what had happened, as they hid out of sight of the grotesquely transforming Silver Guardians, who had already started to attack everything they saw in a blind, animal rage – from punching holes through cars with their tentacles, to ripping out whole electric poles out of the ground and swinging them around dangerously.

"So you're saying," Mr. Collins said slowly, face drawn and white, as if he had suddenly aged a decade in the past one hour, "that that _accident_ called something from the future that's…" he waved a hand, "that's doing _this_. To my men."

Lucas nodded. "It might be some kind of virus, or some cancerous strain that might be a side-effect of the uncontrolled Time Pulse. Anything, really."

"What about your friends – the other Rangers?" Eric asked quietly. "Do they know about this?"

Lucas's eyes flicked nervously to the ground. "They must. I mean, they have the equipment with the required sensitivity, and…"

"Then," Eric said, voice hard, "why are they not here?"

"I don't know!" Lucas snapped angrily. "Why is it that you conveniently forget that I have severed any ties I had with them whatsoever…"

"Listen," Eric interrupted. "Now's not the time to discuss that. We…" He took a deep breath, "We're going to need their help. Now more than ever."

Lucas wondered at the incredible effort that must have gone into admitting that, before placing a hand on Eric's shoulder. "They'll be here sooner or later – you need never doubt that."

"I'm going to go with 'sooner'," Dr. Zaskin said suddenly, pointing to the other end of the front grounds, "because there they are."

The three of them turned to see the four Rangers, followed closely – and surprisingly – by Nadira, running toward the front grounds, before stopping abruptly, having taken in the horrific spectacle that was unfolding in what had been, just a few hours ago, a peaceful place. Wes kept shaking his helmeted head, stepping back slowly – much reminiscent of Eric's own response – before the other Rangers came up around him, reassuring, consoling. Lucas bit his lip. Did he – or was he going to – really miss that? The camaraderie, the reassurance of having a bunch of people who knew exactly what you were going through?

He shook his head. _Focus, Kendall. Now's not the time for regrets._

The mutated Silver Guardians were starting to close in on the Rangers now, guttural facsimiles of human screams emanating from their throats. The four Rangers grouped indecisively, before Nadira stepped forward and, with the metal claws that her nails had just extended into, sliced through the nearest mutated monster. "Where is my father?" she cried shrilly, proceeding to do the same to the next mutant that approached her. "_Where is he_?"

Eric clenched his fists, unable to watch it anymore. He ran out of their hiding place. "Stop that! Now!"

Wes turned toward him, surprised. "Eric? You're… and them…"

Nadira ignored both of them and stabbed through the final monster that dared to approach them. "Daddy! Bring Daddy _back_!!" The rest of the monsters spread out into the city, as if the fragments of human sensibility that was left within their wasted bodies had told them that remaining within the vicinity of potentially fatal danger was not a very prudent move.

Lucas, Mr. Collins and Dr. Zaskin thought this the appropriate moment to make their appearance.

"I'm glad you guys made it," Lucas said.

The four Rangers demorphed, and Wes glared at his former teammate, eyes narrowed. "What happened here?"

Lucas told them of the events that had transpired, before Trip supplemented the story with an account of his end of the incident. "It's from the 25th century," Trip finished, "and whatever it is, it seems to have possessed Ransik."

"25th century?" Lucas said, frowning. "How can you be so sure of that?"

Trip did not say anything; he merely glanced toward Nadira, who sighed, scowling. "That Capsule coming here was a part of Daddy's plan," she said. "Though I don't think he expected it go so out of control, and… listen, I want him _back_! Now!! Otherwise I'll… I'll –"

"Whoa, whoa," Eric said quickly. "Rewind it a bit there – how exactly was Ransik able to _plan_ this?"

"W-Well, what do you think?" Nadira spat. "You 21st century people are so _clueless_! We spied on you!"

Eric staggered, unable to speak, while Mr. Collins sputtered, infinitely surprised, "S-Spied?"

"Cyclobots implanted in a few key departments as technicians," Nadira said, unable to help a smug smile from curving her lips even in that time of distress. "It was _child_'s play to sabotage your oh-so-wonderful _weapon_. And it seemed even better that you would use it so soon!"

Eric stared at her, lips slightly parted, devastated. He had thought that the Silver Guardians were making progress, that they were an effective organisation – both technologically and militarily – and yet Ransik and Nadira had so easily penetrated their core… had destroyed them from the inside, and he had known _nothing_ about it… there had been nothing he could _do_ about it… the lives lost, destroyed… years of hard work ruined and crushed…

It seemed like there was to be no end to the nightmare.

"We don't have time to discuss that now," Jen said decisively, face grim and determined. "There's a mutating virus that's travelling the city, and something needs to be done about it."

"But obviously we need to destroy the source as well," Katie said thoughtfully. "Ransik went into the main building, so…"

"… he – or whatever is possessing him – might be planning to make it his base of operation," Trip finished, nodding.

Lucas pursed his lips. "Right, then. There's nobody else in the building right now, so we need to…"

"Wait," Wes interrupted. "We? When did it suddenly become 'we', Lucas? Huh?"

Lucas frowned. "Wes, this is not the time to…"

"It was _never_ the 'time' for any of what you did. But you did them anyway."

"What _I_ did? If your response to a simple incident hadn't been so _extreme_, none of this would've happened!"

"Don't you dare try to justify yourself!"

Jen bit her lip, looking very uncomfortable. "Listen, guys…"

She was interrupted by a loud, distinctly organic '_rip_' sound that resounded from within the main building. They turned as one to see a thin, membranous layer of some organic material emanate from inside the building, and slowly begin to spread over it. "I don't think we have time to settle issues here," Dr. Zaskin said, pushing up his glasses nervously. "Once that thing finishes covering the building, I have a strong feeling that it's going to be pretty hard to get in."

"Then I'm going in," Wes said decisively, quickly activating his morpher dial. "Time Force!" He was soon nothing more than a red blur as he sprinted toward the Silver Guardians' headquarters.

Eric's lips drew back in an irritated snarl, and his hand moved toward his Quantum morpher. "I'm –"

"—not going anywhere," Lucas said, gripping his Captain's arm. "I'm going after Wes – you guys see what you can do about the escaped mutants." He looked to Eric. "You might want to think about taking Mr. Collins and Dr. Zaskin to a safer place."

Eric frowned and hesitated, and Lucas made use of that moment to morph. The Blue Ranger tilted his helmeted head toward them in a nod of encouragement, before he ran toward the building, at the only remaining entrance that hadn't yet been covered by the membrane. He entered, and soon the mysterious membrane had enveloped the entire building.

"Well, now," Katie said quietly. "I guess it's up to the two of them."

"No!" Nadira cried. "I'm going in after Daddy!" Her nails extended into the dangerous metal claws once again, and she cut and slashed at the membrane, but with no effect – each time she managed to cut it, it grew back stronger, at a remarkable rate. "No!" she cried. "I need to go in! I need my Daddy back!! _Now_!!"

"We need to leave," Trip said. "There's a whole city out there that now stands the risk of infection."

"And also a city that needs to know the danger it's facing," Mr. Collins said, some semblance of control returning to his drawn features. "Dr. Zaskin and I will need to go somewhere where the people can be informed – possibly through the media – how exactly to avoid infestation."

Eric pursed his lips, but nodded. "Yes sir."

"B-But Daddy?" Nadira asked petulantly, tears brimming in her eyes.

"We'll just have to believe in Wes and Lucas pulling through this and figuring out a way to stop whatever Ransik has become," Jen said. "Until then, we have a lot more to do." She sighed, looking away for a moment, as if struggling with a decision. Then, finally, she looked back at Nadira. "We're going to need all the help we can get with this. Are you… are you willing to –"

"If you're asking for my help, my answer would be yes," Nadira said, surprising them all. "But _only_ for now. Once Daddy's back, I'll make _sure_ you'll all pay for this!" With that, she began stomping out of the BioLabs' grounds.

Eric gave a sardonic grin. "Seems like all your plans hinge on a psychotic former enemy and two Rangers who can't even get along with each other." He snorted. "Typical."

"Well, glad to know _you_'re back to your snarky self," Katie said, scowling.

"Now's not the time, Katie," Jen said warningly. "They may not be the best of friends right now, but Wes and Lucas aren't stupid. They know their priorities, and will work together, I'm sure of it." She gave a half-bitter smile. "And possibly get over their issues in the process."

"Yeah. _Possibly_."

The four Rangers morphed and made their separate ways into the chaotic night.


	7. Trapped

**_

* * *

Seven: Trapped_**

It was dark, terrifying.

Wes Collins stared at darkness the likes of which he had never experienced before, surroundings so black that for a moment he wondered if he had suddenly gone blind… or if he was dead, fallen into the deepest pits of hell, into oblivion, where nothing existed but him and the black…

Through it all, he could hear a distinct slithering sound – like a snake over glass, wet and distinctly organic. It was continuous and reminded him of his childhood nightmares, where he had dreamed of monsters and pythons circling around him just like this, closing in on him, ready to squeeze his life out of him, as he continued to scream, and scream, and scream…

_Get a hold of yourself, Wes._

"Alex…?" Wes blinked behind his helmet, and suddenly, like a vista of colours that had suddenly opened up to him after a long and treacherous sojourn in the darkness, a series of blinking lights sprang to life on his visor again – that usual, unending stream of data that helped him handle the suit.

_It was only a minor systems failure_, a hologram that had suddenly popped to life in front of his eyes said. A hologram, with dark-grey sunglasses. Slicked dark hair. Time Force uniform. Strong, tall. _This place is causing some problems for your suit. You'd better demorph soon. _

Wes had absolutely no idea about this person – wasn't he supposed to be dead, anyway? – but he whispered, once more, "Alex?"

_Get a hold of yourself, Wes_.

_**Now**_.

A sudden vigour seized his limbs – unexplained, sudden and panicky – and he reached to stroke the dial of the morpher to demorph himself before he was even consciously aware of what he was doing. He opened his eyes – not sure of when or why he had closed them – and the world opened to him once again; still dark, but now composed of shadows that seemed to merge into another, resolving into momentary silhouettes in the wake of an inadvertent sliver of light coming from an unseen source.

_I ought to have asked the guy what was going on_, Wes thought ruefully, stroking his morpher dial again. "Come on," he whispered, stroking it harder, "Time Force! Time for Time force, dammit!"

No response, except for a tiny wisp of smoke that suddenly emerged from its innards, after which Wes was definitely discouraged to try and morph anymore.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness better by then, and he looked around him, trying to make out which part of BioLabs he was in. He lifted his foot, and heard a sick, wet _squelching _sound. He bent down and ran his hands over the floor – the floor was covered with a coating of a thick, gelatinous substance. _Already?_ Wes thought, crinkling his nose in disgust. He lifted his fingers – now coated with the substance – to his face, sniffing delicately. It seemed to have the consistency of congealed blood, and smelled _revolting_. Gagging on the whiff he had got, and feeling decidedly sick, he shook the substance off his fingers, smearing the rest on the wall.

_What's going on here?_ Wes wondered half-despairingly, as he tried to make his way down the corridor, step by squelching step. Obviously it had a lot to do with… well, whatever happened to Ransik back at the Oaken Avenue warehouse. And with those… terrible monsters that most of the Silver Guardians had become. Trip had tried to explain to him as they had run to BioLabs, but Wes wasn't sure if the Xybrian really understood what was going on himself.

_But I don't __**need**__ to understand_, Wes thought, _All I need is a goal. Something to reach._

And that, he felt, described his time with the other rangers-from-the-future, fighting alongside them, _for_ them. He didn't really understand his relationship with them, or how he did the things he did; but he was aware of the goal they were working towards, and was only too happy to help them reach it, no matter the means. The "_How_" part of the whole deal was a question he wasn't prepared to think about; something he didn't _want _to think about – all he knew was the power and knowledge that took over his body every time he morphed; a deep sense of confidence and authority, almost as if a different personality had taken residence in his body. Slowly that personality was starting to take over his life – right from the sudden independent streak that had caused him to break away from his father's planned future and carve out his own destiny, to that lovely, intangible feeling that made his heart flutter every time he set his eyes on Jen, he had undoubtedly, irrevocably changed.

_Not too sure what to make of the new me, though_, Wes thought, a half-bitter smile curving his lips, continuing to make his slow, torturous way down the corridor. Sure, being a Time Force Ranger had revolutionised so many aspects of his life beyond his wildest stretches of imagination, but then again, it had planted these strange emotional responses within him – that attraction to Jen, and that… that long-festering jealousy that burned in him like a flame whenever he saw Lucas…

_Lucas_.

Somehow, the mere thought of his former teammate reinforced the old vigour in his limbs, and he narrowed his eyes, quickening his steps. _I've got to keep going_. _Got to help others in this building if I can_, Wes thought determinedly, unable to help a chill dread from settling in his spine at the thought of what might have happened to those unfortunate enough to get trapped in the building with the transformed Ransik. _First thing to do would be to find some light and weapons. And then… I've… got to find Ransik, and finish this. Somehow_.

He was without morphing power, without weapon, without teammate or friend in a building virtually taken over the enemy, but Wes, with just one goal in mind, was unfazed.

Or so he liked to think.

* * *

_This was a bad idea_.

There were not many moments in her life that Katie Walker felt unsure of her decisions – not even during that disastrous mission that brought Ransik and them to the past, not when they invited Wes into their fold, not even when Lucas left them, and the team seemed as though it was crumbling apart – but now, cornered by a mutated Silver Guardian, with the entire Silver Hills City on full alert, she finally found her mind slipping into doubt.

Even as her Chrono Sabre finally cleaved through the mutant's torso.

Even as disturbingly _human_ blood spattered onto her suit…

Sirens blared and flashing police lights painted the city in the colours of chaos – panicked people rushed past her, handkerchiefs pressed tightly to their faces, to their children's… an endless sea of humanity, wave after wave of people rushing from point to point, a sort of blind fear overwhelming their senses.

The mutants had made quick ground since they had left BioLabs – more and more people had become infected, though real panic had only begun to set in after Mr. Collins' announcement through the television about the real dangers that the city was facing. The news had also reached Washington by then, and the whole of Silver Hills City had been cordoned off. Flights into and out of the city were left stranded. People desperate to leave had been stopped at the outskirts by the army. The telephone lines were jammed, millions of people trying to call their loved ones at the same time. It was a terrifying state of isolation – with no way in or out.

The whole city had been quarantined.

Despite Mr. Collins' confident reassurances that the city management, the remaining resources of BioLabs, what was left of the Silver Guardians, and the Time Force Rangers would pour their combined effort into finding a fast and effective solution to the crisis, Katie couldn't fight off the doubt that chewed at her brain. Gnawing away at the self-confidence that had brought her so far in the Time Force Academy. Bit by bit.

She couldn't help but feel that the whole city had been left to die.

_And we did it_, she thought, a drop of blood of the mutant she had killed (_the human I… murdered_) sliding down her visor. _We came here because we messed up, because we were trying to atone for a mistake, but we've just gone and done a much more terrible thing_.

A sinking despair started to weigh down on her diaphragm, and suddenly she found it hard to breathe – all she wanted to do was huddle against the wall, bury her head between her knees, and, oh, just _sleep_ away all that burgeoning despair…

Her hand moved slowly toward the morpher dial (_I'm so damn __**tired**__ anyway, I'm so __**sick**__ of this, we're not getting anywhere –_); just one stroke, and she'd be demorphed, and she could just, just _go_ somewhere, because if she stayed, terrible, _terrible_ things were going to happen –

"_Katie? Katie, you there_?"

She lifted the morpher dial to her face – a tiny hologram of a very worried-looking Trip flickered to life. "_Oh, Thank God you're okay_," he said, throwing back his head for a moment. "_What was going on just now? Your beacon wasn't moving for a long time, and I thought –_"

"I'm _fine_, Trip." Physically, anyway. "The situation's a bit… sickening, that's all."

He lowered his eyes for a moment. "_I know. But Dr. Zaskin and I are working on it_." Trip was collaborating with what was remaining of the BioLabs team, to try and find a solution to the crisis. "_You, and Jen, and Eric – you guys keep fighting. I know we can get this back under control_."

Katie nodded distantly. "Yeah. We can have a try at that, I guess."

"_Katie – you've gotta… I mean, you've always been so __**strong**__, in body and mind, and I… you should – you know, try and keep up __**hope**__, and –_"

She smiled weakly. "Yeah, Trip, I get it. Thanks."

He gave an embarrassed little grin at her, and she felt the tiredness start to slip away. Just a little.

"What about Wes and Lucas? Are they –?"

The smile slid off his face and he shook his head. "_Both of them demorphed soon after they got into the building – I'm not able to track them anymore. I'm not even able to get a handle on the emergency homing device on the deactivated morpher – either the morphers are damaged beyond repair, or something is jamming communication_."

"Oh." The despair was teasing her at the back of her mind, waiting to take over. Once again. "I… I see. Keep… keep me posted on any more developments, okay?"

"_Sure_," Trip said seriously. "_You take care of yourself_."

"Yeah. You too." The hologram flickered and died as they terminated communication. The brief flicker of levity that she had got out of her conversation with Trip had long since been snuffed out, and she now found herself looking at the task that lay before her with the weariness of a veteran soldier who had fought countless battles, seen terrible atrocities. There were mutants to be disposed of, a potentially dangerous Nadira on an insane rampage, and, of course, the very strong possibility that Wes and Lucas – two quarrelling thick-headed _idiots_ with swollen egos, and also their _last hope_ against this new menace – were dead.

She considered all of this, and could find only tired indifference in her soul. A bit of regret, perhaps. Maybe some fear. Plenty of despair, and resigned melancholy. The mental strength that she had prided herself of was now nothing more than a mockery of a dream… a distant dream, to be sure. Deep within, she knew that this should scare her, but the more she fought, the more that voice died down.

She shook her head and climbed onto her Time Force bike. Her blood-tinted visor swallowed the world in disturbing shades of crimson as Katie Walker drove into battle once again.

* * *

There were times when Lucas Kendall bade farewell to all pretences of machismo and gave into fear.

This was one of them.

His life, for all its complementary facets fitting perfectly into each other, was a dangerous one after all – professional racer, Time Force officer, a Time Ranger three hundred years into the past… but it wasn't these that scared him, not really. It wasn't the thought of the responsibilities that stoked the fear in his heart, but their consequences. He knew he wasn't alone in his fear of what kind of horror they had unleashed on the timeline by letting Ransik escape into the past, but _now_, with everything that had _happened_ –

"Wes? Wes! Where _are_ you, dammit!"

The fear bug was chewing away at his soul faster than an agricultural beetider as Lucas made his way through the darkly organic corridors. He had been forced to drop his morph soon after entering the building, and now had only an incredibly primitive 21st century pistol as a means of defence. The gooey substance that coated the walls was growing at an incredible rate – they hung like translucent branches reaching out like wreaths as in forests from nightmares.

The funny thing about forests…

-

"_Alex, we're lost. Accept it_."

"_No_. _**No**__. We can still make it out. No problem."_

_He sighed. That stubbornness again. One of these days, it was going to kill them all. "No, we can't, Alex. We need help."_

_Alex finally turned, in his eyes burning that eerie fire. "Why do __**we**__ need help when __**I'm **__here? I'm the __**Red Ranger**__, dammit! You've just got to listen to what I say!"_

_He felt his discomfort rise like bile at the back of his throat. That bloody morpher again… "Yeah, Alex, and look at where listening to you has gotten us. Dinah, dead. Porter, lost. Rachel… dying. We need to __**stop**__ this mission __**now**__, Alex. No, __**look**__ at me," he said, grabbing Alex's shoulders and turning the officer toward him, even as he tried to look away, "we may be stuck in this forest, but your morpher is the only one among ours that's still functional. If you could give it to me… maybe I could reconfigure some of the circuitry and establish some sort of communication – well, maybe not as well as Porter could… __**can**__, but I can still try."_

_The fire burned harder than ever. "And compromise on our protection? You want both of us to die too? Is that it?"_

_He was starting to feel desperate. "Protection from __**what,**__ Alex? Everything that can happen… has already happened. The only thing left to hurt us…" he looked sadly at his leader, "is __**us**__."_

"_No." Alex pulled away from him, fingering the morpher tied to his wrist. "No," he repeated. "You're not having this."_

"_Alex…"_

"_You don't__** understand**__," the Red Ranger said suddenly. "I… I __**need**__ this. This… this morpher here is everything I am. Everything I ever will be. It's __**me**__, don't you see?"_

_He was starting to feel more than a little panicked now. He had never seen Alex act this… psychotic before. "Alex, __**please**__. Give it to me. You can have it back after we've left this place." Alex's eyes met his, and he thought he saw a light of reason begin to flicker within their blue depths. "You see we have to leave as soon as possible, don't you?" He had to tread carefully here. Alex was not himself, had not been himself ever since he had become the first Time Force Officer to be entrusted with the coveted Red Ranger morpher. "We need to get back home. Get Rachel treated. Send out a proper search party for Porter."_

"_Home…" Alex murmured, confusion fleeting across his face. "But the mission… __**my**__ mission…"_

_He tried to hold on to his fraying patience. "Let's… let's just forget about the mission for now, all right?" he said, softly, kindly, as if he were speaking to a particularly hyperactive six-year-old. "We need to get back home before we meet with any more trouble. Rachel's life depends on it." He finally decided to go for his trump card. "Think about the people who're waiting for us… for __**you**__. Think about Jen."_

_Alex's lips curved upward in a smile. "Jen…"_

_He felt as if he were treading firmer ground now. "Yeah, Alex. Jen. Think about how anxiously she must be waiting for you to return."_

_To his surprise, storm clouds pulled across the smile on Alex's face, and his eyes darkened. "I wonder about that."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_Maybe she's not waiting for me at all. Maybe she's just having fun with Kendall."_

_His eyebrows shot up. "Officer Lucas Kendall? The racer? I wouldn't be surprised if he's interested in Jen, but she's not the type who'd go after someone like him…"_

"_Well, she is. She __**is**__!" The flame of reason blossomed into a forest fire, teasing at the realms of insanity. "This… this morpher is all I have left. This power is the only thing I have left to call __**mine**__!"_

"_Alex, stop! Look at what that morpher is doing to you! Give it back to me, Alex, you've got to –" A white-hot explosion of pain, precise and excruciating, blossomed in his abdomen, cutting off his words. A crazed Alex held his laser pistol, still pointed toward his abdomen, where the crimson of his blood was fast starting to stain the white of his uniform. With trembling hands, he reached down at it, and the blood was soon painting his hands, and the whole experience was so __**surreal**__…_

_Suddenly, strength left him, and his knees buckled as if they were made of cloth. "Alex…" he gasped._

_He looked up, and the pistol was now pointing directly at his forehead._

_No, not Alex. Not his best friend, his comrade-in-arms, their best officer._

_**No.**_

_The muscles in Alex's jaw worked silently, tension and conflict rippling through his handsome face, before he finally spoke. "You understand, don't you – I can't give away this power. I __**can't**__."_

_The last thing he heard before an explosion as unimaginably fantastic and indescribable as the Big Bang itself blasted away his universe forever was precisely this:_

"_I'm sorry, Zeph. I really am."_

_-_

… Lucas Kendall fell to the coated floor, trembling, cold sweat beading across his temples.

He got out his arms just in time to check his fall, and stayed in that position for a few moments, resting on his palms and knees, breathing heavily.

_What was __**that**__ all about?_ He remembered the original team that had first been entrusted with the Time Force morphers, remembered the mission that was to be their last, remembered how Alex had been the only one to survive that disastrous mission, how he came back home a tragic hero, forced to watch as his teammates died around him. Remembered the tears that had sparked in Alex's eyes as he had described their deaths at the hands of the enemy, remembered the set line of his jaw, the quiet anger, the determination that had endeared him to the whole galaxy. Remembered how he declared that he was going to work solo from then on; that the morphers he had retrieved were not to be used by anyone else anymore.

_Lies._

He remembered how _awed_ he had felt.

He remembered how easily he had _believed_.

Zeph Bracken, the original Time Force Blue Ranger. Porter Wilkins, Green. Dinah Davidson, Yellow. Rachel Andrews, Pink. These were the ultimate officers. Hand-picked to assume the honour of being the first ever Time Force Ranger team. Along with Alex, these were people that Lucas and several others grew up in the Academy admiring – these people were role models for so many generations of budding Time Force officers.

And yet…

They were all _gone_, thanks to the very power they had been bestowed with.

Suddenly a lot of things made sense now.

_I just saw Zeph Bracken die_, Lucas thought wildly, squeezing his eyes shut, the image of Alex pointing his gun to the head of his best friend imprinted forever on the back of his eyelids. No, more than saw – he had _felt_ him die. He had _felt_ all that overpowering despair, the sadness, the panic, the disbelief – the white agony of pain, and then… that all-encompassing blackness of utter oblivion.

Some more trembling moments passed by before Lucas realised the wetness on his cheeks.

It took him a few more to realise that that wetness was his tears.

He supposed he was crying for the sudden death of a beautiful illusion.

The illusion that the morphers were a _gift_. That the device he was wearing represented his _destiny_, the great things he wanted to achieve. The people he had to save, the mistakes he had to atone for. Yet, far from being a blessing, these morphers were plunging human minds already ensconced in conflict into confusion deeper still – they were providing them unimaginable power, and turning them against each other.

Eating away at the bonds that held the team together.

Lucas's head dipped even further. _Wes, I'm sorry. If only – _

He understood, now: the anger that had greeted him when he had given in to his little moment of desire back at the Clock Tower, the incredible strength that had pushed him through the clock face – all that had been _Alex_. Not Wes, not really.

"Hey… who's there?"

A disturbingly bright light suddenly stung his eyes from the darkness, and Lucas flinched, turning his face away. Narrowing his eyes and forcing them to get used to the sudden change, he looked toward the direction of the person holding the flashlight.

Tall, broad-shouldered. A glint of shimmering blue in the eyes. Muscles of the face taut in some perennial half-grimace. Almost like… Alex.

"Wes?"

Using the wall as support, Lucas got to his feet. "Wes?" he said again. "Man, am I glad I found you."

"Lucas," Wes said, almost dully. "So you did follow me."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't just let you go face whatever it is that Ransik's become without actual backup."

Wes nodded distantly, before his gaze snapped back onto Lucas. "You okay?"

Lucas pursed his lips. "Not really," he said, "but I'll be fine." He took a deep breath. "So – we'll search out Ransik together, shall we?"

Wes gave him a half-grin. "I don't suppose we have a choice – you're the guy with the weapon, and I'm the guy with the light."

Lucas decided to afford himself a little laugh. "Yeah – quite a duo."

Discomfort permeated the moment once again as the two severely conflicted young men considered what still lay ahead of them. They were walking into a battle with neither of them quite sure of what they were going to face. One, fanatically single-minded. The other, disillusioned, broken. But morpher or not, broken or unbroken, they were still Time Force Rangers – in essence and spirit.

They walked in silence, side-by-side, into their next battle.


End file.
